Don't You Cry, Little Girl
by ABlurInTheWind
Summary: The Witch Boy doesn't know how he gets himself in these situations. He just does. And he doesn't see why the insects seem to subconsciously run to him for comfort. Possibly the 5 times Klarion comforts the team and the 1 time the team whishes they could've been there to comfort Klarion. To save him.
1. Chapter 1

**Just a little one shot unless readers want me to continue a full story from this. Please, enjoy and review.**

**If I continue it'll be the 5 times Klarion comforts the team. and the One time they wish they could have comforted him.**

Klarion isn't the most caring person. The only thing he even remotely cares about is his familiar, Teekl. But even then he's not above insulting her, or even swatting her when she gets snarky. Which is usually all the time.

So, when suddenly a sobbing figure comes bursting through the halls of Mount Justice, across the training combat mat he's currently beating with flares of red and crashes into him? Well, he isn't really pleased. To put it in simpler words. He recognizes the blubbering mass as the Martian girl. Just as he opens his mouth to hurl biting insults at her, she wails and throws herself into his long, pale arms. Reaching around his shoulders to grasp his jacket material between his shoulder blades, collapsing against him. Her head finds its way against his creamy throat and nestles there, where tears wash over his skin.

Klarion is shocked- and utterly disgusted. He hates human contact and emotions. The ref flames at his fingertips dance and flare at his temper, but then die back down to nothing. He knows he's already on this ice, still being a new addition tot he team, and hurting the sobbing Martian will not help his cause. So his only (safe) option is to sit there and continue to be the girl's handkerchief. It's revolting.

In her confusion and tears she must not have realized who she latched onto in her fit, Klarion reasons. Because if she did know what she was doing, she would've sooner jumped into fire, he's sure. The Martian's still wailing and the sound grates at his over sensitive ears. He needs to shut her up and fast before his ears start bleeding. Meaning in this situation there's really only one thing he can do. He despises the option. But if he wants to continue hearing and get this girl off as fast as possible, it's his best choice.

Fighting back the urge to gag Klarion slowly lifts his arms, bringing one to wrap around the green girl's waist and the other to the back of her head. He has to pause to collect himself and not vomit at the touch. Finally he begins to act out what he's seen other mortals do when one of their kin is distressed.

The sharp black claws of his left hand hesitantly cart through the girl's hair, mindful to not scratch her, lest trouble befall him. The Martian girl sniffles and rubs her forehead into Klarion's collar bone (He bites back a hiss.) and then pushes backward to feel the pressure of Klarion's fingers. She draws a shaky breath and soon her trembling body so racked with tears begins to relax. Her hands unravel from his shoulder blades and he smirks for a moment, thinking how easy that was.

He's shocked when instead of retreating the girl rewraps her arms around his thin waist.

Stupid girl! Can she not sense his hatred and repulsion to be in this situation? Subjected to something so humiliating as comforting another?

His claws still rake through her hair and she sniffles, "Do not cry, little girl."

Klarion means it as a form of insult, but the girl clearly doesn't take it that way. Because she nods her head and whispers, "Thank you." before falling into the arms of sleep.

Klarion's got a lap full of sleeping green flesh in his arms that won't release its death grip. Carp.

**should I continue?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Just a little one shot unless readers want me to continue a full story from this. Please, enjoy and review.**

**If I continue it'll be the 5 times Klarion comforts the team. and the One time they wish they could have comforted him. **

**So I have decided to continue! I may even go past just the idea of the 5 times 1 could've plot line. would that make you all happy?**

**Comfortee: Artemis**

Days had passed since the Martian incident and after boiling himself in disinfectant (and sporting pink skin instead of his natural alabaster for a while) Klarion began to forget the terrible experience. Push it to the back of his mind. Like everything he doesn't like in his head, mind, or memory he locks it in a mental vault and ignores it. Childish maybe (Shut up.) but it works for him. And as the mortals of this useless planet say, if it's not broke don't fix it. Klarion thinks that's an odd term.

The girl, M'gann, doesn't remember anything. After she so pathetically passed out he simply made sure she stayed asleep for a few more hours and levitated her off him with a simple, "_Evomer reh won._" If his magic worked (and it always did) she would wake up in her room with no memory of collapsing on him and believe she simply ran to her room. Klarion's a genius. (Shut up, Teekl. You're a cat, what do you know?) He doesn't appreciate the telepathic blast Teekl pinches him brain with. So he stomps her out of his mind and cuts their connection for a bit. His head still isn't quite but it's better.

Mount Justice is a nice place, he'll admit, but it lacks one very important thing. Entertainment. With him joining the goody-goody side he can't fly out whenever he pleases and strike down chaos whenever he wants to. He can't anymore at all, actually. His powers are only supposed to be used for good now. Doctor Old Fart and his stupid rules. So the only form of amusement Klarion gets now is whenever they get called on a mission by the Batman, or the other beings he shares the cave with. Whenever they do something stupid or reckless or _Heaven forbid_ chaotic? He greedily watches with twisted mirth.

It's a rare bout of quietness right now however and Klarion can barely take much more of it. He's just about ready to dig his claws into the side of the roc face he's walking by and drag them. Just to hear the shrill squeaks of protest the minerals give as they have no choice to cave to his will. Black nails are already poised centimeters above the wall and Klarion's contemplating of he should maybe be spontaneous, put a nice (OCD inducing) little pattern, too, when he hears something. To put it lightly it sounds like someone's trying to test a nuclear missile.

There's crashing and loud bangs, thumps mixed in occasionally at random. It's chaos. Klarion smiles a tainted smile. Now _this _ was much better. Like a moth drawn to a tempting flame he drifts towards the wonderful symphony of sounds. His shiny black, slightly pointed dress shoes click softy against the floors as he reaches the source. Confidently he turns his head and looks around the corner. Only to quickly pull it back when a dumbbell whizzes through the air. It's not aimed at him because the trajectory was way off (yes he knows math) so it clearly had no purpose other that to be a moving object. Chaotic, he likes it.

Banging is still occurring which means whoever is throwing things didn't notice him. Klarion pokes his head around again. A long string of blonde hair is whipping around and tanned fingers are launching projectiles at any target possible. Klarion doesn't need much more evidence to confirm it's the team's archer, Artemis. It's a dangerous position she's put herself in, what with al the shrapnel everywhere, but seeing as it's the only form of entertainment he's had all day, he just watches.

Only when the archer starts to tire and the makeshift arrows cease does he open his mouth, "My, my, poor little archer girl throwing a temper tantrum?" he mocks. A cruel smile on his face.

"You're one to talk, Witch Boy.", she retorts.

Klarion's smile drops. That tongue of hers was sharp, and one day it would get her in trouble. He'd like to see that. To laugh in her face when everything goes downhill all because she couldn't control her mouth or the filter from her brain to her tongue.

"Perhaps, but I'm not the one that goes on rampages when something goes wrong." A raised eyebrow, "Usually."

Artemis glares at him. He's had far worse, and he's not going to humor her by pretending to be afraid and shake in his metaphorical boots.

"Whatever, you wouldn't understand. So I don't know why I'm even talking to you.", she mumbles.

More human emotions. Klarion doesn't want to help her by any means, but he's bored so, "Try me."

The archer looks at him like he's lost his mind. Fortunately Klarion can't lose what he never had. (Be quiet cat, he's too smart for a mind anyway. Waste of space they are. Sane ones anyway.) He cocks his head to the side in a condescending way. She takes the bait and starts taking, if only to prove she's not scared of him. Klarion knows she is.

"Family issues, if you can even call us a family. All we do is double cross and burn each other.", Artemis huffs.

"Not literally."

"What?"

Klarion scoffs, he hates repeating himself, "You have a dysfunctional family, correct?"

She nods dumbly. Klarion snickers mentally because she is.

'Then deal with it, brat. It's dysfunctional but not destroyed- as fun as it would be to watch it happen. So suck it up. At least you don't literally burn each other. Take what you have and don't throw a fit.", he mocks her earlier episode.

Strangely though she doesn't reply, and stares at the ground with her brow furrowed. He can see that his fun is over, pity. Klarion turns and walks out without another word to the mortal.

He absently thinks about how he doesn't hear anymore sounds of objects breaking. Huh, oh well. They just don't make humans like they used to. All fiery emotion and no brains.


	3. Chapter 3

**My glorious readers I have returned and I bring with me a new chapter for your hungry eyes! Enjoy. I have a lot of people asking me to do a babymagic one. So even though I personally don't ship it, I wrote this for you guys who DO like it. :)**

Zatanna liked everyone on the team. She just didn't have it in her heart to hate or be annoyed with them, even when they really did deserve it. (Yes, Wally, that's you she's thinking of.) However just because she was very laidback when it came to her friends, it didn't mean she liked to mess up majorly in front of them. Since her father became Doctor Fate, she has no one to help her work on advancing her magical arts.

Sure, she could preform some spells, the ones her father helped her learn. Sometimes she can even teach herself new ones. After all, Zatanna's told Robin before that the words are only part of it. If she concentrates hard enough she can start to understand a new one in a few days. Thinking so quick on missions is straining and makes her stumble with the right words, fumbling to construct a spell. But by the time she has it properly lined and chanted, the others have taken care of the villain, and Zatanna is left bushing thinking about how little she's helped her friends.

Now they've been given a new team mate who can use the mystic arts, Klarion. Zatanna knows it's not something that should worry her, but the Witch Boy is very talented. She's seen his spells and fought him first hand. The Lord of Chaos doesn't even use words to conjure magic, therefore making his quicker than her. (She doubts he'd be able to beat her without his powers, though. He's so thin she swears he's never done physical labor in his life. After life? What do you call an immortal? She's getting off track.)

Zatanna doesn't like to admit it out loud but she's very much pondered the idea of going to far as to ask Klarion to teach her. Soon after she shakes her head and brushed off the idea, because she can't look desperate, even though she knows her friends would never see it that way. Her pride just wont let her. That doesn't mean she doesn't take advantage of what's thrown her way though. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, she thinks. Zatanna knows when opportunities arise.

Every chance she gets, she observes Klarion when he conjures his magic for whatever reason he sees fit. The most rewarding times are when the team is training and he summons red liquid fire fames to his hands when he goes on both offense and defense. She's noted he seems so have a thing for fire and flames. (She'll ask him later. Or not, she can go with not knowing. No she can't.) Teekl sits next to her and watches her master closely, her back rigid and eyes focused. Zatanna wonders if the creature actually cares for her owner. Every few moments the cat makes a sound or twitches, and as a result Klarion either growls, glares, or shouts at the small ball of fur.

"Shut up, you stupid cat!", he demands as his clawed hand raises to deflect one of Artemis's arrows with a red shield. Absently Zatanna wonders why Klarion's magic is red, and why he bothers to argue with his familiar when he's otherwise occupied. She decides Teekl does care. (For the Witch Boy, she will never understand.)

Klarion leans backward when one arrow gets too close and almost reaches its mark. Artemis freezes for a moment, no one would notice if they weren't looking closely, and then moves fluidly again when it's clear Klarion isn't injured. (_What?_) Klarion's spine snaps forward as he throws orbs of magic at the archer and Zatanna watches with interest. She may not be so keen to actually confront the other witch, but she can certainly learn a lot from just observing his sorcery. Even if he rarely speaks the words to his spells.

One spell he preforms she will never understand. He opens his mouth and she thinks maybe he's actually using words for the next attack. But, no. Klarion spews a tongue of fire at Artemis. (Surprise.) Momentarily blined and panic as the flames rush her the archer is at a disadvantage, and before she knows it is on the mat. Fail: Artemis. Trainings over and everyone dissipates to do their own business.

It's been two weeks since the team training session and in that time a mission has passed. Zatanna couldn't get the words out, she choked up, and now Wally's in the mountain infirmary. Yes, Zatanna's prideful, but when one of her friends is hurt because she can't get a grip on her magic. Well, that's a line she will not cross. As much as she doesn't want to, she knows it's time to talk to Klarion. A feat that turns out to be much harder than she originally would have guessed.

The Witch Boy is exceedingly hard to locate, and once Zatanna _does _find him, he's not exactly approachable. She found him in the library. Pretty normal. Except he's hovering in a sitting position in the air, legs crossed and an array of spell books floating around him as he mumbles to himself, occasionally sending a glare at the cat that rests on a book shelf close to him. Teekl seems oddly amused. She doesn't want to know.

Stepping closer to the hovering witch but still a safe distance away and steels her nerves and decides to get it over with.

"Klarion?", she asks. Her voice not shaking but still with a note of uncertainty. She hated that he intimidated her, mad her nervous. Klarion's head turned towards her and met her eyes.

And, okay. She wasn't really prepared for the weight his gaze put on her. His onyx eyes seemed to be able to look right into her being. Her heart gave a strange flutter, like butterflies lost their way to her stomach and ended up in her chest.

"What do you want, Baby Magic?", Klarion sneered. How dare she interrupt him, now of all times? Could she not see he was busy?

Zatanna's heart lost it's butterflies because, hello. They never should have fluttered and Klarion is also the jerk that _doesn't call her by her name. _She'd sort of like to really punch him in the face. But she needs his help. Priorities.

"Well, I was- sort of- wondering if you could maybe-possibly- help me with my magic?", she spits out in a rush. Talking to Klarion is harder than she thought. Why though she doesn't under-

"Now?", he asks.

Zatanna blinks. She didn't expect him to agree so easily, even if he hadn't out right agreed, and assumed she'd have to offer him something at the least. Was it possible the Lord of Chaos had a generous side? She doubted it, but still.

"Um, well, I mean if it's not too much trouble. I'd be really grateful.", she replied.

Klarion seemed to ponder her words, as if he was actually considering her question. Teekl meowed and his eyes narrowed at the cat before turning back to her. He sighed, "I suppose, if it means I can get back to my own studies faster."

"You study magic still?", she asked.

He raised one eyebrow. An incredulous look on his face. "Of course I do. Magic isn't something you ever fully know, girl. It's a continuously evolving art."

Zatanna swallowed, she never gave thought to it that Klarion might actually have good advice. Let alone have a smart and calm side under all his childish behavior. Stepping from the air the Witch Boy stood on solid ground and walked towards her, the butterflies sputtered to life again. Klarion was tall. What he appeared to lack in muscle mass he make up for in height and frame. The suit he wore fitting to his thin form and gliding over his shoulder blades and arms. And why was she gawking mentally at him? (She didn't know. She did. Thinks she does.) Teekl meows again. Klarion flashed a scowl, "I know, stupid cat."

Zatanna scrunches her face up in confusion. Wondering what they could possibly be discussing. She doesn't notice that Klarion has moved, because suddenly he's behind her and his arms are wrapped around her small shoulders and his pale hands grasp her wrists.

"The trick? Don't think so much. Just imagine being someone else's version of better, and you should be fine." He drops her and walks away. Deeper into the library halls. Zatanna's cheeks are red and she thinks maybe the butterflies have red wings, too.

It's a week. It's been another mission. And this time, she didn't fumble.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello again. If some of you read my other stories you'll know i'm currently a bit ill, so updates will be a bit slower than usual. But since i'm such a loving author I decided to update this story today. Please, enjoy. IMPORTANT PLEASE READ: Should I write a parody story where Zatanna bewitches Klarion for fun and revenge and the result is her making him sing a multitude of songs? Some dirty and some funny but overall crazy and he can actually sing? Oh! And maybe even one where they go under cover as a punk/rock band for some reason and Batman makes Klarion the singer because he looks the part! XD**

**Comfortee: Robin (You should know this chapter takes place during the episode where they got to the circus and Robin does the acrobatics role. Forgive me, I can't remember the episode name.) **

Klarion can deal with noise. With loud screeches and howls, haunting wails and shrieks of despair. It's nothing new, just the usual noise that batters his skull from the inside. Because as he is the embodiment of Chaos personified, it s as such that he feel and hear all the problems in the world he occupies. And although he won't admit it out loud, he knows he's probably a little insane. You can't have Chaos without insanity, he reasons. Teekl never understands his logic, though, maybe that's because no matter how smart she thinks she is; she's still just a feline. (Shut up, Teekl. It was a compliment. Sort of.) So yes, Klarion likes noise, welcomes it even. But there's only so much he can take from the world added to his own head.

People were everywhere around him. Bodies were jostling one another and insolent children were shrieking in delight. The air perfumed with the wretched smell of sugar and love and _happiness_. Enormous grins painting the faces of everyone in the arena tent. Light flash over head and he lets his onyx orbs flit to look up and then back to the task on hand. (He thinks, maybe, if he were mortal he might convulse from the ever flickering light that seem to be everywhere.)In his opinion he thinks he looks ridiculous. Klarion's going to hex the Batman for making him part of this particular mission. Because, no, really. _the circus costumes. _(Teekl, stop laughing you useless creature!)

Everything he's been forced to wear is an unholy shade of bright, bright white. Like a dove's wings. Klarion hates it, hates the color white. Black is much better, black is chaotic. Every color of the ever so happy rainbow thrown together to create a mess. He's getting off track, he does that a lot, he notes. The rest of the team's costumes aren't so bad, at least they cover a fair amount of skin and decent masks. Klarion, on the other hand, was not so modestly covered. Not to say he was preforming naked, but he felt as though he was. His already alabaster skin dulled in comparison to the white sleeveless vest accentuated with black detailing he wore that exposed both his entire arms, chest and torso to those in the circus tent. White pants that felt as though they were trying to become one with his legs adorned the lower part of his body, paired with pointed black and white dress shoes. He's willing to bet his anchor to this world the shoes are supposed to be a more modern spin off of old witch stories. He's not amused by that, given his heritage.

Stretching from his mid-upper arm to end fingerless are a pair of gloves that seem to make his spider like fingers longer all the while accenting his curled black claws. Finally to complete his terrible costume the circus master thrust a white wing tipped mask over his eyes and told him not to remove it until the end of the entire show.

"Gives your eyes a 'scare factor', dark and foreboding. You're not half bad looking in the get-up kid, I might have to keep you on fulltime!", the old geezer had said. (Oh, poor Fate, he's been replaced.) Klarion balled his fists until the sharp pain from his nails forces him to stop. He tries to reason with himself that killing this man is not going to help him. That doesn't really help, and he walks away before his hands get a mind of their own and wrap around the old man's neck. They've been known t0o do that before, get a mind of their own. Accidently. (They're not accidents.)

Klarion's supposed to be bringing the magic to tonight's act. He wants to cackle because, if only they knew. He debates using real magic, but decides against it, it's a waste of his talents anyway. So instead he just moves his arms the way he was told to and watches in boredom as smoke 'bends to his will' as the Ring Leader bellowed to the foolish crowd. Human minds were stupid things, believing anything they see or hear. A flick of the wrist from the Ring Leader and Klarion knows that's his cue to smirk and open his mouth to spew fire. Purple faux flames billow in pillars into the air and the crowd shrieks with delight. Klarion just thinks he needs some ear plugs. He's so bored that he wishes something would happen. Well, Klarion usually gets what he wants.

There's suddenly a gasp ringing through the arena and everyone goes silent. It's deafening. He can see all eyes locked onto something in the air above his head. Then takes a minute to wonder, why? Oh, that's right, the acrobats. The Martian girl and Robin are flying through the air. Or at least one of them is. The fiery haired girl has her legs firmly locked onto the bar, and is watching is terror as her partner starts plummeting to the dirt floor below. Robin's going o die, he thinks. This is his team mate, he should be worried, yes? Rush to save him, that's what the others would do.

"_Robin!_", she shrieks through the mind link established before the show, and Klarion winces from the noise. She's too loud, everything about that girl is too loud. Klarion decides he doesn't like her form of Chaos. He focuses back on the boy falling through the air.

The thing is, Klarion doesn't _care _ that he's going to die. He's actually wishing the boy would fall faster, so he can hear the crack of bones and the sweet sound of a person losing their life. He really does. Watches with such precision that later Teekl would tell him he looked crazed. Klarion doesn't care, he knows he is. Three..two..one..._crunch__. _

...

Klarion throws his back claws towards the heavens and suddenly Robin is engulfed in a cloud of red. It swirls like a cyclone and then vanishes, and where the boy once was is not nothing but empty. The arena erupts in cheers and applause, so thunderous he could mistake them as a thunderstorm. Robin waves from the acrobats landing to the relieves people. His eyes are filled with relief, disbelief, and confusion. And, Klarion really didn't want to. He'd rather have watched the bird's death, but. The other's would have surely grieved, and that would be boring. He hates boring. So he played the hero just this once.

_These insolent children are clouding my mind, influencing my actions. I refuse to play the hero again. _He sneers to himself in his head. Or what he thinks is just his head, because he's forgotten the mind link, and they all hear that thought. It's a mistake Klarion's going to throw a tantrum over later. For now he doesn't know. In the madness of the moment Klarion stalks out of the center ring and disappears backstage, he will not stand to be in this costume any longer. If he would've looked behind him he'd have noticed the pairs of eyes following him, one particular pair of blue following his figure in confused wonder.

_Birds are supposed to fly, aren't they? Like riding a bicycle. Once they learn they never forget and trust their wings to carry them, and not let them fall. _He thinks as he peels off the outfit and redressed to his usual attire.

Robin thinks about those words echoing in his head, and tries to ignore a sudden tingle in his chest. He knows what it is, he knows he now has a newfound respect for Klarion the Witch Boy. And maybe the words he doesn't say as conscious comfort, too.

**How many of you actually thought I was going to kill Robin?**


End file.
